Read reviews of the books we hold in the Chris Mead Library, written by our in-house experts. A selection of book reviews also features in our members’ magazine, BTO News.
All the Birds of the World
Featured review
Lynx have had a long-term project to produce an exhaustive guide to the birds of the world. It started out with the 17 volumes of the Handbook of the Birds of the World (1992-2013) which has family and species accounts for all birds. This was followed by the two volumes of the Illustrated Checklist of the Birds of the World (2014-16). They have now published the third and final stage of this avian odyssey with this current book.
The Role of Birds in World War One: How Ornithology Helped to Win the Great War
Author:
Nicholas Milton
Publisher: Pen & Sword History, Barnsley
Published: 2022
In a follow-up to last year’s The Role of Birds in World War Two: How Ornithology Helped to Win the War, Nicholas Milton has produced another fascinating book exploring the role played by birds in 20th century conflict. Described as “The Best Birdwatching Army Ever Sent to War”, the British Expeditionary Force included hundreds of both professional and amateur ornithologists. This book covers a number of their stories, starting with the Foreign Secretary at the outbreak of war, Sir Edward Grey, winding its way through individuals such as the British Army’s Official Rat Catcher, Philip Gosse, and Thomas Mills, who had the idea to try to gain military advantage by training gulls at sea to detect submarine periscopes. The birds themselves are by no means forgotten, from reports of House Martins sensing overhead Zeppelins to the work of the British Army Carrier Pigeon Service.Birdwatching increased in popularity throughout the war, and it became one of the most popular pastimes in the trenches. From the Skylark, whose song could still be heard over the din of battle, to the report of a Blackbird so undisturbed by the fighting that it built its nest inside a horse-drawn field gun, the book highlights the resilience of nature and how this contributed to the soldiers’ welfare and mental health. As well as more traditional birdwatching it also highlights opportunities that presented themselves for slightly more unusual research, such as the French pilot who published observations on bird flight which he had made at altitude.The book concludes with an ‘Ornithological Roll of Honour’, a tribute to 37 ornithologists who lost their lives during the Great War. Comprising professional ornithologists, amateur birders, bird artists and photographers, the stories of their lives and their contribution to ornithology before and during the war serve as a poignant reminder of what they might have gone on to achieve. Like it’s World War Two companion, this is an easy-to-read work packed with interesting and often moving details about an unusual subject. With consideration of both ornithology and historical context, it should appeal to anyone with an interest in either field.Book reviewed by Lesley Hindley
Publisher: Princeton University Press, Princeton & Oxford
Published: 2022
In style, this very engaging book sits somewhere between the terse Helm dictionary of scientific bird names (by James Jobling) and Ray Reedman’s much more discursive Lapwings, Loons and Lousy Jacks. In content too. The subtitle here is all important - “A history of English bird names”. It aims to cover the ‘common’ English names of all bird groupings (from Accentor to Zeledonia). So no explanations of scientific names here – except where they have been transferred into the “English” name – and no specific epithets, so while “gull” is there, there is no entry for James Clark Ross. The names follow “standard” usage, but are refreshingly global, so both diver/loon and skua/jaeger are there, along with, for example, many Australasian names. Although there are some autochthonyms (names borrowed from another language), and, no, I didn’t know that’s what they were called either, such as Ākohekohe (Hawai’ian), Kagu (Kanak) or Ibon (Tagalog), other names, especially where they refer to individual species, perhaps not unreasonably in terms of length, are missing – so no Bonxie or Tystie, for example. This led me to wonder how many potential autochthonyms we missed out on as early European explorers ran roughshod over much of the world? It is nice that the author nods to the sensitivities around some names without erasing them completely – this is a “history” after all. Most of the entries are short, less than a page, with a generous helping of high-quality photographs and historical illustrations, so this is a great book for dipping into and there is much to learn, but it is perhaps not complete enough to be a true reference book.Susan Myers Hardback https://www.nhbs.com/de/the-bird-name-book £ 416 30.00 2022 Princeton University Press, Princeton & Oxford 9780691235691 Rob Robinson
For budding birders or those unfamiliar with African avifauna, the prospect of identifying birds in a biodiversity-rich country like South Africa might feel overwhelming. Birds of South Africa aims to provide a lifeline for this untapped audience. Pitching itself as a comprehensive beginner’s guide, the book provides just enough information on the appearance, habitats and behaviour of South Africa’s most commonly seen species to permit a positive identification. The vibrant and informative pictures encourage easy species comparison and thus help learners to refine their skills. An exciting addition is an extensive list of the nation’s best birding sites, which had me itching to make a mad dash for the airport.The book is impressively compact. It contains over 340 species, and although four species sometimes fill a two-page spread, it rarely feels cluttered. This portability gives it a notable advantage over other, similar titles but inevitably, sacrifices have been made in terms of detail. Its lack of distribution maps might frustrate seasoned wildlife tourists; however, Birds of South Africa is not aimed at serious birdwatchers who are setting off on that once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Kruger. Instead, it is perfect for the casual enthusiast who wishes to take a decent stab at identifying the birds they see on their holiday, without having to spend hours poring over a heavy book to do so. Book reviewed by Fionnuala McCully
As Javier Caletrío notes at the very beginning of his introduction to this collection of essays, ‘There is a beauty in the simplicity of birdwatching’. This simplicity is something that has all too often been lost; countless birdwatchers continue to burn significant quantities of fossil fuels in their attempts to see increasingly rare and exotic birds, often in increasingly rare and exotic locations.This book challenges the notion that birdwatching needs to be based around powered travel, refocusing instead on the intimate and rewarding nature of birding more locally. It is a timely reminder to us all, challenging us to question our own birdwatching habits and to choose an alternative approach that lessens our already significant impact on the planet.The book begins with two chapters by Javier Caletrío, the first of which was originally published in 2018 in the journal British Birds. Both are important in setting the scene, highlighting the degree to which birding and birdwatching tourism are contributing to the climate crisis. The second of these chapters is framed around the sorts of questions a reader is likely to have about their own impacts, particularly whether taking individual action can make a difference; spoiler alert – it can!While these chapters make a powerful case in their own right, it is the remainder of the book – some 29 chapters, written by a diverse suite of contributors – that demonstrates how a low-carbon and local approach to birdwatching can deliver enjoyment, science, and increased connection. From patch birding to the use of acoustic recording devices, and from birding by bike to an encounter with three-figure flocks of Hawfinches in the Surrey Hills, the contributed essays show how increasing numbers of birders are moving towards a more rewarding way of engaging with birds, low in carbon but high in reward.Book reviewed by Mike Toms
As part of the Reaktion books’ ‘Animal’ series, Helen F Wilson brings together the various ways that Robins have permeated our culture, whether in books, folk stories, newspaper stories, adverts or artwork. As you work your way through the book for every poem or picture you’ll be familiar with, there are another 10 that will be completely new and often surprising. This is all underpinned by knowledge and research on the actual bird, showing how much of the folklore around Robins is from attempts to understand them.Fortunately, Robin doesn’t stray into being too twee or sentimental, with plenty of tales surrounding the darker side of these birds or the darker side of our impact on them. Next time I see a photo of a Robin nesting in a plant pot or discarded welly, I’ll remember it could just as easily be the skull of a hanged man.The main thrust of the book investigates the roles that the Robin (aka European Robin) plays in our culture, but space is allotted for other ‘robin’ species, including the unrelated American and Australian Robins which have been named after our familiar garden equivalent.The final chapter of the book investigates the future of the Robin, which feels an interesting choice given the ubiquity of them and how resilient they have generally been to human activity compared to many birds. However, this is put into the context of the unnecessary gauntlets which even common birds must run in a modern landscape.If you are interested in the cultural history of birds then this is a small but rich book for you.Book reviewed by Rob Jaques
Birds of the Lesser Antilles: A Photographic Guide
Author:
Ryan Chenery
Publisher: Helm, London
Published: 2022
This guide serves as a colourful who’s who of the Lesser Antilles’ birdlife designed for casual birders visiting the region, including those on a non-birding holiday who would nonetheless appreciate being able to identify the avian species they encounter on their travels. I am myself no means an ornithological expert, though my partner is, and we have been on many a holiday on which I have repeatedly asked ‘what’s that bird?’ or ‘what’s that I can hear singing?’. Sometimes having a weighty bird guide with endless species can be a bit intimidating to a beginner. Birds of the Lesser Antilles is a much more beginner-friendly book for nature enthusiasts such as myself.The description of the different bird habitats across the region is a useful tool, helping to put species in context. One of my passions is spiders, and I usually assess the habitat I find them in before I attempt to identify them. A summary of what can be seen at different times of year helps narrow the search, too. It’s also handy if planning when to visit.While not a complete list of species of the area, a collection of over 200 of the more common species is still a brilliant resource for the travelling birder, and I certainly recognised some of the species from my own visit to the Caribbean. The title is somewhat misleading, however, as the book does not cover all of the islands of the Lesser Antilles, for example Trinidad and Tobago are not included.Clear, engaging photos alongside descriptions without overly technical language are a good starting point for identification for beginners. Notes on vocalisations and where to find different species are a thoughtful touch as well.All in all, this book is very accessible, particularly for amateur birders like myself. It’s a very good starting point and I would happily take it with me on a trip to the Lesser Antilles.Book reviewed by Sarah Cooper
